by Rita Herron
A deep yearning burst open within her as he suckled her, a need so all-consuming it begged to be released from its imprisonment. She’d been alone all her life. Working. Drifting through each day, detached.
Because becoming involved meant getting hurt. Being left behind.
But this time, she wouldn’t get emotional. She simply needed comfort, assurance that she was still alive.
At least for the night.
“Olivia?”
She pulled back, heard the hesitation in his voice, knew she should be questioning this herself. But they were lost in this dark world, separated from everything for the moment. And for some reason, she found herself not wanting to be rescued.
Not just yet.
So she slowly reached up and began to loosen his tie. One flick. Two. The knot slipped loose. Then came his buttons. Finally she felt the thick hair on his chest, ran her fingers through the coarseness, stroked the corded muscles that hardened with his indrawn breath. Then she let her hand trail lower to tease his sex, the feel of his hard erection in her hand driving her wild with desire.
OLIVIA LOVED THE SAME WAY she worked, with intensity and gusto and spice. Craig forced her hand away, afraid he might lose it before he gave her pleasure. And her pleasure seemed to be uppermost in his mind.
Forget work. The case. That her father might have been responsible for ending so many lives.
That the two of them had almost died.
All that mattered was being inside her, making them both feel alive.
He inhaled, struggling to control his raging desires, but the odd odor he’d sniffed earlier permeated the air. Suddenly cognizant that that burning smell originated from the elevator malfunction, that the odor indicated more trouble, he eased away from her and stood, abruptly yanking his shirt together as he tried to adjust his eyes and scan the darkness. He had to get help. Get them out before they died.
“
Her voice sounded lost, small in the darkness that swallowed them. Hurt. Confused.
“We have to get out of here.”
“I know, but…”
He gripped her hands when she reached for him. “Olivia, I smell fire.”
His crisply delivered words jerked her into the present. She pushed to her feet, holding on to him to gain her balance. He was suddenly grateful she was so resilient and tough. She would need that strength if they were going to escape alive.
“Where’s it coming from?”
“My guess is below us, but I can’t be sure.”
She dug her nail into his arms. “What do we do?”
“Try the Emergency button again. I’ll see if I can find a way out of here.”
She did, to no avail, then ran her fingers over the wall in search of an emergency phone. When she found it, it wasn’t working, so she fumbled for her cell phone and dialed frantically.
“There’s no service.”
He tossed her his phone. “Try mine.”
While she felt for the numbers, he removed his tie and swung it upward to catch on an exposed bar across the ceiling. It took him three times, but he finally snagged the beam. Then he used it to help him scale the wall. The tie ripped just before he grabbed the beam, but he managed to leap and get one hand around the metal tubing.
“Craig, your cell isn’t working, either.”
He hated the panic in her voice. “It’s all right. I might be able to get us to a vent and we can crawl out.”
“What are you doing?”
“Removing the ceiling panel.” He fumbled with his pocketknife, felt with his loose hand for the screws bolting the panel into place, then slowly worked one free.
Olivia’s breath hissed through the air. “Why hasn’t someone rescued us by now? There should have been an emergency alarm.”
Craig cursed, struggling with the second bolt. “My guess is someone rigged the elevator so it would fall. They probably dismantled the alarm as well.”
Olivia gasped. “Then we must be really on to something,” Olivia said. “Or else why would someone want us dead?”
“Right.” Craig cursed again. If he didn’t get the bolts loose, the bastard was going to succeed. The carbon monoxide was slowly seeping into the elevator. He could already feel himself getting woozy.
“Cover your mouth and nose,” he shouted. “Try not to breathe in.”
Olivia hunkered down low, pulled her shirt up over her face and did as he said. It would have been a priceless moment if he hadn’t been so scared that they were going to die.
THE SLIGHT RINGING started again in Olivia’s head. Or maybe it was just the panic.
You’re going to die. It won’t be long now until they get you just like they did your father.
No…
“Olivia?”
She wrapped her uninjured arm around her knee, then glanced up. Through the murky shadows, she realized that Craig had nearly unbolted the ceiling panel. A tiny sliver of light flowed through the opening. The screech of his pocketknife in the metal splintered the air, and the screw clattered to the floor.
“I’ll check it out, then come back for you.”
Don’t go. She stifled the plea and nodded, although she knew he couldn’t see her in the dark.
Seconds lapsed into forever as he hurdled himself into the shaft. The odd smell grew stronger, the faint scent of smoke mingling with the odor.
Craig shouted her name. “Let me help you up. We’re between floors, but there’s a vent we can crawl through.”
She stood and hurried to the opening, but even stretched on tiptoe, she couldn’t reach his extended arm.
“Come on, Olivia. We need to hurry.”
“I can’t make it. You go ahead. Get help.”
“I’m not leaving without you,” he growled.
“But I can’t reach you.”
He dropped to the floor, gripped her arms and forced her to look at him. “Listen to me. You’re the toughest woman I know. Trust me. You can do this. We have to hurry.”
She did trust him. More than she ever had another man. But she couldn’t climb into that well of darkness. The shadows, the voices were amplified; the hot air was suffocating. Her breathing grew unsteady, and she trembled in his arms.
He shook her gently. “Come on, I’ll hoist you up. I know it’ll be hard to hang on with one hand, but I’ll climb up and pull you the rest of the way.”
He bent and kissed her one more time, then stooped to lift her. Olivia licked her lips and reached up to grab the metal rod. Her body shook as she wrapped her fingers along the metal pipe. Craig made a running leap, scaled two steps up the wall and grabbed the pole, then hurled himself up into the shaft. Seconds later, he lay on his belly with his hand clamped over her wrist. Her hand was slippery, starting to slide…
“Go ahead, let go, I have you,” he said in a strained voice.
She heard the encouragement and determination in his voice and released her grip long enough to fumble for his hand. She screamed, almost slipping, but he encircled her wrist with both of his hands. Her arm felt as if it were being wrenched from the socket as he dragged her up. She fell into the small landing with him, her breath gushing out. He braced her head against him for a brief second, soothing her nerves.
The odor grew stronger, more pungent. Heat seared her skin and smoke billowed into the elevator shaft.
“ou okay?”
She nodded and pushed up. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
He brushed her shoulder as she pivoted and crawled through the narrow opening. Darkness consumed her as she plunged into the space to follow him, the sound of Craig’s breathing a lifeline in the darkness.
Just as they made it to the end and Craig pushed open the vent, the elevator exploded below them. A ball of fire surged up where they had just been, smoke streaming through the vent. Flames licked at her feet as she dropped onto the floor beside Craig. Another fire-ball careened through the vent toward them. Sparks flew and hissed, and another explosion rocked the building as they spri
nted away.
Chapter Twelve
Chaos reigned for the next half hour. The fire alarm sounded through the halls; a constant barrage of intermittent warnings blared over the intercom, ordering everyone to evacuate.
Craig pulled Olivia along beside him as they ran down the steps to safety. The fire truck roared up toward the building, a steady stream of doctors, scientists and other employees of CIRP flooding the lawn. A few had managed to snag laptops and briefcases and clutched them to their sides as if to guard the contents.
Hushed whispers, worried voices and shrieks sprang out as smoke poured through one of the doors. “What’s going on?”
“Where did the fire start?”
“I heard the service elevator exploded!”
“Is everyone out?”
“I wish I’d grabbed my computer.”
Craig whirled Olivia around to face him, his heart pounding. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, although her eyes were glassy, and she was coughing. “Those files.”
“May be the reason for the fire.”
Olivia gasped. “You mean you think someone did this to stop us?”
He shrugged, perspiration trickling down his neck into the collar of his shirt. “I don’t know, but I damn sure intend to find out.” The fact that Olivia had almost died three times in two days wasn’t a coincidence. He hauled her up next to him while his gaze scanned the property, searching for anyone among the crowd who looked suspicious. If someone had set the fire to kill them, he might be waiting outside, watching to see if they escaped alive.
Two more fire trucks arrived, the firemen jumping into motion. CIRP’s security, Seaside Securities, combed the area, checking to make sure everyone was safe.
Craig spotted Ian Hall in a heated conversation with Dr. Fulton and headed toward him. Olivia followed and Hall spun toward them, his expression grim.
“I was just asking Dr. Fulton if you two made it out all right.”
“We got stuck in an elevator that nearly plunged us to our deaths,” Craig snapped. “If I hadn’t uned the top panel so we could crawl through the vent, we’d both be trapped inside right now. Dead.”
Hall’s face blanched while Fulton staggered back, pulling at his mustache. “My God, you aren’t suggesting that someone intentionally set that fire?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” Craig stabbed a finger at Hall. “Which makes it obvious that someone here doesn’t want me asking questions. What are you hiding, Dr. Hall?”
He bristled and adjusted his suit jacket. “I resent your implications. I’ve cooperated with you and the local police fully. Dr. Fulton is even trying to pinpoint the nature of this virus to help you.” Craig started to argue, but Hall continued, “I’ll speak to the fire chief now and my security, and get to the bottom of what caused this fire.”
“I want to know what you find out,” Craig said between gritted teeth.
Hall gave a clipped nod. “I’ll have the fire chief’s report sent to you as soon as he completes his investigation.”
“I’ll be expecting it.” Still, Craig silently cursed as Hall walked off. He just hoped to hell the firemen contained the fire so Fulton’s research wouldn’t be lost.
THE SEA OF FACES swam in front of Olivia in a dizzying frenzy. White lab coats. Nurses. Technicians. Firemen.
Concerned people who were just trying to do their jobs had been put in danger.
Why? Because she and Craig were asking questions.
Anger churned through her. Whoever had tried to kill her wanted to so badly that he’d risked getting caught to do it. And he’d put all these other lives in jeopardy, too.
“I don’t understand, Craig. Why endanger all these other people and the scientists’ valuable work just to hurt me?”
He dotted his face with his handkerchief. Then he gently reached up and wiped at her cheek. “You have black soot there,” he said in a low voice. Her gaze met his, tension thrumming between them. “Whoever wants you thinks it’s worth the risk.”
She gripped his hands, that faint ringing echoing in her head again. “They must think I know more than I do.”
The brief flicker of suspicion in his eyes cut her to the bone.
“Craig, you don’t think I’m keeping something from you, do you?”
His mouth flattened into a thin cold line. “You didn’t tell me about that phone call at first.”
She gripped him tighter, ignoring the pandemonium surrounding them. It was suddenly very important to her that he believe her. “I explained that. And I’m not here to get information on your family like that other reporter, I’m just trying to find the truth about my parents’ deaths.” She gestured toward the crowd, her heart in her throat. “I would never jeopardize these people’s lives. That’s the reason I chased the story about my mother, and now my dad. I don’t want the truth about what happened to them buried, or information about some dangerous virus kept from the public if citizens can protect themselves.”
Something dark shifted in his eyes. “Then we have to figure out what they think you know.”
Her heart fluttered in relief. So, he did believe her.
Yet at the same time, her mind raced for answers. And a sense of fear overwhelmed her. She felt as if someone was watching her. Searching her out through the crowd. She glanced through the throng of people, dissecting faces, wondering if the lab coats and phony smiles were a mere disguise for what lay below the surface.
“Olivia?”
She spotted a tall muscular man fading into the background. He had beady eyes. Now she remembered…more details.
She started forward, had to find him.
“Olivia, what’s wrong?”
“I…thought I saw the man who tried to kill me at the hospital. He had dark eyes and a mole on his chin.”
Craig instantly removed his gun and glanced into the crowd. “Where?”
She pointed past a group of employees to the sea oats and wooded area beyond. Behind it, the jagged edges of a cliff overlooked the ocean. “Over there.”
Craig grabbed her hand and dragged her through the crowd. “Tell me if you spot him again. What was he wearing?”
“A lab coat. And maybe scrubs.” Her gaze swung left and right, her head spinning as she searched the throng. But everyone blended together. Suddenly every face possessed those same intensely evil eyes.
Craig halted at a clearing of brush, pointed toward the cliffs that bordered the property. Dark clouds gave the sky a sinister grayness. Shadows soared above the ocean from the ridges like bony skeletons ready to grab her.
She could barely see beyond her own hand. Except somehow she knew those beady eyes were watching her. She could almost smell the scent of blood and sweat on the killer. The scent of death.
“I’ll search the cliffs,” Craig said. “You go back to the crowd.”
“No.” Panic tightened her chest as she tugged at his hand. The killer’s face loomed behind every man. “Don’t leave me, Craig.”
“But this might be our chance to catch him.”
“It’s too dark,” she argued. “If he was there, he’s long gone.”
Craig frowned. “You’re sure you saw him, though?”
The faces swam in front of her, each one peering at her, each one more menacing, as if they’d risen from the grave. The image of a needle in the man’s hand rose through the mist. “I…I’m not sure.”
He stroked her arm, his voice low and throaty. “Olivia, did you recognize him?”
“I don’t know. I…” Her voice broke. “I…thought I saw his eyes, but I didn’t see his face that day. Except for a second. He had a small mo on his chin.” And now everyone looked like a killer.
The voices started again. I’m coming for you, Olivia. You’re going to die.
The incessant ringing followed. The shrill sound of her father’s gunshot. Her own cry.
She covered her ears with her hands to drown out the sounds. God, what was happening to her? Was she losi
ng her mind?
“Olivia?”
Craig’s voice sounded as if it were a million miles away, lost in a wind tunnel.
“Olivia, are you all right?”
She nodded, although she wasn’t all right at all. A killer wanted her. She had to know why.
Emotions she didn’t like, and refused to acknowledge, surfaced. Fear. Dread. A sense of evil. A desperate need to burrow herself into Craig’s protective embrace. “Maybe whoever did this thinks my father told me about his work.”
Craig’s frown deepened. “He didn’t give you a journal, maybe a file?”
Olivia shook her head. “No, but maybe he left one in the house somewhere.”
“We didn’t find anything before. And we’re still trying to decipher his confidential files,” Craig said. “I’ll call and see if the house has been released, and we’ll check it one more time.”
She nodded. The wind howled off the cliffs, and the cries of the suicide victims floated in with the tide. As if she were looking at a movie screen, Olivia suddenly saw herself hurtling off one of the cliffs, falling, falling, falling, saying her final goodbye.
AS THEY LEFT CIRP, Craig phoned Agent Devlin and played catch-up.
“We must be getting close,” Agent Devlin said. “I heard from the CDC and Oberman. The vics’ homes are clear. The virus is not transmitted through air vents or structural faults, and no bacteria appears to have been absorbed into any structural materials. They also don’t think it’s contagious or that it spreads through physical contact.”
“That’s a relief,” Craig said. “Although the victims have to be contracting it from somewhere. Did the mail check out?”
